Linnea
by LisaDouglas
Summary: She didn't know what her name was, or if she should even have one. But Lana observed, watching the newborn as she sighed, that she went about life as though there was life to live. She would learn. Lana keeps her newborn daughter and runs.
1. Thredson's Eyes

Chapter One

"Lana?" Came a voice.

Lana looked up from her place in bed, trying hard to open her eyes. She'd been sleeping almost peacefully for the last few hours, glad to finally be alone and away from the child she'd been, wanting to part with for the last nine months. Lana had heard the sounds of a screaming infant on and off for hours now as she dozed in and out of sleep, but hadn't bothered to look up until someone called her name.

"I told you I didn't want to see her." She curtly reminded.

She didn't want to see her or hold her. She was even upset that she'd been notified of what she'd had in the first place. Whatever it was, boy or girl, she just wanted it out of her presence: badly.

"I knew that," the nurse began, Lana sensed a tone of desperation in the young woman's voice, "its just she's allergic to the formula and she's been screaming like this for seven hours and, and I thought maybe if she suckled for a while, it would calm her down."

"Not my problem." Lana replied coldly.

The nurse brought the screaming newborn closer to her own frame and without a word, sadly continued out the door as the baby's cries only grew louder.

"Give her here." Lana held out her arms, and began to unbutton her gown.

The nurse seemed happy with this and quickly left Lana alone with the baby. Regardless of her feelings, Lana thought it was wrong to let the baby scream like that for seven straight hours and wondered why they hadn't found an alternate way to feed her in that length of time or even just resorted to asking her sooner.

The newborn latched on and quieted down right away, just as the nurse had predicted she would. Lana tried her best to not look at the infant, but she found that she couldn't help doing so. The first thing she noticed, was that the child didn't disturb her in the way she thought it would, probably because it was a girl and she thought she was expecting a boy.

All these months, she'd imagined that the baby's face would conjure up images of its father and all of the horrific things he'd done to her, to Wendy, even to Kit...to people, particularly women she'd never know or see. But it didn't. Instead, the infant reminded her of something else from a very long time ago. She looked familiar; she looked like….well, like herself and her own sister, who she hadn't seen in many, many years, when they were small children.

She reached out softly to brush the baby's cheek with her finger, not even realizing she was doing it. The baby ignored what were subconscious attempts on Lana's part to get her to look up, and instead continued to eat. She'd been starving since her adverse reaction to the formula much earlier that day and Lana realized she probably hadn't had any sustenance in many hours: perhaps since before she ever went into labor.

She wondered, for a split second, how the baby was to survive without her there to feed it. It didn't make much sense. After all, why was it that after seven hours the only means they could think of to nourish this child was to ask her, when she'd expressed every intention of giving it up? Did that mean there wasn't anything else and she was going to starve once she was gone?…But then she remembered, as she'd told the nurse only a few minutes before, that it wasn't her problem…at least not anymore it wasn't.

"Its not personal." She found herself addressing the suckling baby, but trying to pretend as if she was talking to herself. "You know in any other world….if you weren't…if it wasn't for the way you…if it weren't for how…"

"Ms. Winters?"

Lana looked up when the same nurse poked her head in the door, making her realize she'd been talking to the baby.

"Yes."

"I'm here to take the baby, oh and I've brought you a telegram."

"Oh." Lana was surprised that she felt unready for this.

She relinquished the infant in exchange for the piece of paper without looking up but she felt weird about the fact that she'd hesitated. A weird empty feeling hit the pit of her stomach in that moment and she wished it would dissolve back into nothingness. Likewise, the baby began to cry again as soon as it was taken from her. Lana quickly began to read, in an effort to put all of this out of her mind. She got half way through the note before she burst:

"Wait! Bring that baby back here!"

The nurse seemed surprised, but pleasantly so, and placed the baby back in Lana's arms.

"Would you like me to bring you anything else…certain papers that…?"

"Yes, bring me the papers." Lana ordered rather than asked.

The young nurse was a bit alarmed at Lana's sudden change in demeanor. She looked straight ahead almost catatonic-like, gripping the little bundle in her arms, giving it the most frigid hug she'd ever seen anyone give a baby. It was clear that something in that telegram had scared her out of her wits.

Lana looked down at the baby, who had been being called 'Lana's baby' by everyone she met for months now… from the police, to everybody at Briarcliff, to all her friends…even Thredson himself. She, who apparently was supposed to have been a he, had been scheduled to be her baby until tomorrow afternoon. That was when she'd be transferred into foster care.

Lana paused for a moment, waiting for the baby's eyes to flutter open.

"Okay kid, now's your chance." She uttered nervously.

Lana thought there was something so ironic and dark in the fact that her little eyes would decide her fate. She couldn't bear to take along Thredson's eyes and have them watch her in the night.

"Alright Ms. Winters…I'll take the baby back now…" The same nurse announced cheerfully as she placed a stack of papers on Lana's bedside.

"No uh…not just yet." She quickly made an excuse. She was confused about everything that was going through her head and wanted a cigarette so badly right then.

"Having second thoughts?" The nurse asked.

Something about this nurse, her innocence, her smile, reminded Lana of Sister Mary Eunice…before her unfortunate transformation, and it bothered her. Moreover, she had to wonder why this woman was trying so hard to get her to hand her baby over. Was he already there? Lana surprised herself and brought the bundle in a little closer. She decided, nonetheless, to play along.

"Just give me some time with her. Alone." She said pointedly.

"Oh…alright." The nurse was a little surprised at this as well and Lana could tell she was embarrassed. "You know…she looks like you." She indicated, as if trying to convince her of something.

Once she left, Lana refocused her attention on the infant. The nurse was right. The tiny baby appeared to take after her in looks. But she could still not see the one part of this child that mattered to her most: her eyes. Lana's own eyes drilled into the little face she'd been dreading seeing for months, almost as if she could will the tiny eyelids open just by staring at them. Lana repositioned the baby in her arms and watched as she stirred, yawning briefly.

"We don't have a lot of time." Lana reminded herself, looking up nervously at the clock, knowing she had only minutes to get up, get dressed and flee.

Instead of opening her eyes, the baby settled deeper into her mother's arms and sighed. Now that she was finally full, she was ready to go to sleep after hours of screaming.

Lana glanced back and forth between the baby and the clock…from what she could figure, she had just fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes before Thredson arrived to claim the child she was about to give up…and probably to claim her too and then dispose of her. Lana knew she had to make this decision quickly, and that there was no room for error. She reached over on her bedside table and grabbed the stack of papers: the foster care papers. When she signed them, she'd give up all parental rights.

But now, she wasn't so sure that was the right thing to do, especially if Oliver was alive, and as the telegram indicated, coming for them. How had he survived the gunshot wound she'd given him? And weirder, how was he not in jail? And how did the sender of the telegram know he was coming now? The telegram left so many things unanswered, at least for the moment. It even made her wonder if perhaps Sister Jude really was alive, who else at Briarcliff would send her something like this? Whatever the case was she believed it. Its contents were enough to save her life and to give her one piece of advice: run.

She couldn't believe what she was asking herself to do. It just seemed crazy, she wasn't prepared to be a Mother…but Lana briefly considered if giving up this baby would really enable him to have her. She didn't feel right about that idea…she couldn't live with herself if that happened, if he allowed her to live that is. She didn't trust him with a baby girl, especially one that was so clearly hers. It didn't matter how much he claimed to want this child, his violent history toward women was enough to make her want to keep the baby herself. It was an overwhelming feeling she didn't quite understand. How could she spend nine months wanting so badly to get away from someone, yet now that she had her chance, she knew that it was the wrong choice for her to make. She had this overpowering feeling that she couldn't do that.

In the very least she knew that, in addition to saving their lives, leaving with the child would allow her to punish Oliver in the worst way she knew how: to make a family he couldn't find or be part of. Ever.

As painful as it was to admit to, Lana realized that the baby was truly hers. Looking into her face made that point obvious. All these months she'd thought of whatever it was that was growing inside her of as being his child, rather than hers. And now, she worried that, if Oliver got the baby, she would grow to remind him of her as she got older and that maybe he'd snap and hurt her or worse. Baby didn't deserve that.

Then there was the fact that a paper trail of any kind was just a further way for Thredson to track her wherever she went…she didn't know where she was going when she left this hospital room, all she knew was that she never wanted to be found, at least not by Thredson. She planned on removing every trace of physical evidence that she was ever in that hospital bed, from her adoption papers, to her gown, everything. She wanted a clean getaway, and if that met taking the baby too, then so be it. Lana also realized that taking the baby might make it easier for her to blend into society, and that in the very least, there'd be one less person out there trying to find her in the future.

Before she was finished considering all the facts and possibilities, of which there were many more, Lana suddenly and almost violently tore the foster care agreement in half, the "shhhhhhhrrrrr" of the pages shredding, breaking apart line by line, was obviously audible and made the infant stir again. Only this time, she opened her eyes.

"Oh." Lana was surprised. "Hi…"

Having the child look at her and search her face now was, well different…She didn't want to speak to the baby and yet, there was something about the way in which the girl's eyes searched her own, that demanded an introduction of sorts but all Lana could manage was a faint hello.

One might say brown eyes were brown eyes. She and Oliver both had them but Lana could tell the difference right away. The baby had her deep brown eyes, and they told her everything she needed to know…the light in those little eyes lit a path for her, seeming to reassure her that somehow she wasn't going to have to live the rest of her days wondering if Thredson's eyes were gazing at her in the dark. Lana's head snapped up when she heard the clock tick loudly. Five minutes had passed and time was running out.

"You need someone to take care of you. And I think that's my job. So, what do you say you and I get out of here?"


	2. Linnea

Chapter Two: Linnea

She didn't know what her name was, or if she should even have one. But Lana observed, watching the newborn as she sighed, that she went about life as though there was life to live. She would learn.

Lana Winters surveyed her dingy surroundings, just thankful that she'd made her escape so quickly. Everything had happened perfectly and just in time. It gave her a little confidence that she and the baby were met to be safe. After making her final decision to keep the baby, Lana threw on some clothes, quickly packed and wrapped the baby back up before climbing out the window of her first floor room. Unbeknownst to her, Oliver Thredson had just walked in the hospital entrance a few hundred feet away and they'd narrowly missed crossing paths.

Thredson had just been released from a hospital bed of his own, having been in intensive care for several months from the gunshot wound to the head he'd received from Lana just after her release from Briarcliff. His prognosis had been grim, and initially, paramedics had placed a white sheet over his head and a tag on his toe. But Oliver Thredson had overcome that obstacle just as he had with so many others in life, only now he wore a patch over his left eye. The bullet from Lana's gun had damaged the eye so severely that it had to be shielded from airflow and was no longer of use to him. Oliver had decided two things upon regaining his consciousness, several months after it had happened: that he would get back at Lana by taking her life, and that he would still get to have _his _child, his son. Now Thredson strolled into the maternity ward of the hospital, satisfied with the fact that he was about to take victory, sneaking up suddenly on the unsuspecting Lana who was preparing to give away the child he had every right to raise.

Oliver Thredson approached the nurse's desk proudly, after all, he was about to meet his son, it was one of the happiest days of his life.

"Excuse me." He asked.

"Can I help you?" The nurse inquired, acutely raising an eyebrow at him, noting that he didn't look at all well. She was an older woman and had been working in that hospital's maternity ward many years. She'd seen everything under the sun and understood almost immediately that Oliver Thredson was trouble.

When Oliver looked in the mirror, he saw himself as he'd always looked, but with the hideous eye-patch. This nurse, however, saw a deeply troubled, half-blinded man, with a long scar across his right cheek. Oliver, you see, didn't take note of the scar; it was simply too much for him.

"Yes, I'd like to see Lana Winters."

"Winters, Winters…" The nurse began to thumb through some files and then looked back up carefully when it hit her who Ms. Winters was…wasn't she the one who was giving up the baby, the one who'd been raped? Supposedly by Bloodyface?

"And you are?" She asked.

"I'm the child's father." He indicated without hesitation.

"Um-hum?" She said. "I'm sorry Mr…"

"Thredson."

"Yes Mr. Thredson, I'm sorry but this child has no indicated father. Would you like to wait here while I speak to Ms. Winters?"

"How about you just bring the baby out to me?" He asked. He wanted the baby now, killing Lana could wait, he decided. In fact, he thought, the hunt might be fun.

The nurse gave him a strange look and told him to wait. You know Oliver, despite his desires, he did as he was instructed and sat in a chair, actually believing his son would be brought out to meet his gaze for the first time.

Nurse Patty, on the other hand, had a better idea. She knew Ms. Winters was telling the truth. It had been all over the news and moreover, there was a rumor going around the ward that she was considering keeping her baby. All the nurses were enthusiastic about the idea. They thought she needed the love, and moreover, the girl was one baby who really needed its Mama. She was very sensitive and none of them thought she'd survive foster care or a children's home. That being said, Patty didn't want to disturb Lana with any of this non-sense, and realizing that this Mr. Thredson should probably be in jail, just decided to call police instead of bothering her.

After a while, Oliver began to wonder why all the nurses were avoiding him and why the one he'd spoken to about seeing his son had yet to return. He looked at his watch, beginning to get impatient. It had been twenty minutes after all. He got up from his chair and headed toward the desk once again.

"Hold it right there!" Oliver stopped when he heard a commanding voice.

"Put em put Thredson." Another voice commanded.

"What seems to be the problem, I'm only here to see my son." He pointed out.

"The problem is you escaped police custody two hours ago at another hospital across town." One of the officers explained as they began to tackle and attempt to handcuff Oliver.

Oliver had not realized that he'd been in police custody the whole time he'd been in a hospital bed recovering from his gunshot wound. The police and the D.A. had gone to great lengths to keep this news from getting out. This was going to be the trial of the century and they didn't want any details leaked. Moreover, they all figured they'd let Ms. Winters have her fifteen minutes of fame with that little book she wrote. Perhaps, they thought, she'd make some kind of a noticeable difference at Briarcliff…they knew it was a horrible place but had no say in shutting it down. And maybe they'd let her finish her pregnancy before telling her the truth about Thredson's fate. They wouldn't be ready to disclose that Thredson had lived until about that time anyway, the last thing they wanted was to taint the jury pool you know.

"I told you, I'm here to see my son!" Oliver yelled, breaking away from the two officers even though he was handcuffed.

He scurried down the hall, the police at his heals. Oliver glanced at every doorframe to see what name had been written in chalk beside it as he ran by. Finally, when he saw _Winters, Lana_ he dashed inside, expecting to see her there laying in bed, exhausted. When instead, he saw absolutely nothing. The calm summer wind blew into the room through the open window, softly tickling the white curtains. Oliver, the two policemen and the two nurses that had followed all stood in stunned silence it was obvious by the empty bed, and suitcase-less room that Lana had left.

"Where is she?" He asked angrily.

It amazed the police officers that he was most concerned with Lana's whereabouts when he had an excellent opportunity to attempt to escape through the open window. It was in just that moment that they were sold on the idea that he was truly a nut.

"Go and look for the baby!" Nurse Patty quickly instructed of the younger nurse at her side, the one who'd brought the infant back to Lana for feeding in the first place.

"Where's my son!" He yelled as the cops quickly moved in to restrain him once again.

"Mr. Thredson, you…" Nurse Patty began.

"Patty." The younger nurse signaled as she came back in the room. She shook her head no and didn't say another word. Patty smiled at this.

"It would seem that Ms. Winters and her baby left earlier this afternoon." Patty explained, not really knowing what else to say.

"You mean…she kept it?" Oliver questioned calmly.

"Yes." The younger nurse asked, not totally understanding his disappointment, she was thrilled by the news. "What's wrong with that?" She questioned.

Oliver kicked the door hard and screamed in anger, greatly startling the two nurses and causing the police officers to tighten their grip on him.

"Alright come on let's go." One of them said.

"I'm going to get you Lana!" He screamed. "I'm going to get you if it's the last thing I do!"

….

Meanwhile Lana and her baby had just begun a long bus ride. Lana had gone home for all but a half hour to repack, collect things that were very important to her, trade maternity clothes in for regular ones, grab her winter coat, the few baby things some supportive friends had given her in the eventuality that she kept the child, and of course a lot of money, nearly every cent she had. The rest, she'd instructed Lois to pack up and store or send to her when she finally found a place to go. It may seem hasty to a lot of people but she felt it was her only real choice.

It had been hard for her to close the door on the little house. It was the home she'd shared with Wendy after all. But Lana found that some things were more pressing than grief and sad good-byes. She quickly bid adieu to the old place in order to buy her and her daughter a few more minutes jump on road.

Lana had no idea where she and the newborn were headed, all she knew was that she needed to get out of town, something was going on and she wasn't going to be safe at home. She had the feeling she needed to get far away from there, where no one knew her name, where no one could find her.

Lana looked down when the newborn baby cooed her in her arms. In the moment it was like this little thing that she'd so dreaded meeting was all she had left in the world. It was an incredibly strange feeling but she knew she was doing the right thing. And the benefit for her, she realized, was that she didn't have to fight alone anymore. She searched the child's face as it looked up at her. The newborn was barely able to make out its mother's face, but relished her presence anyway. Lana was awed by this; she hadn't counted on it having much feeling for her.

They'd been on this bus two hours, and Lana was impressed that the infant was so quiet. They were coming close to approaching New York City, it was where Lana had originally intended to go once she had the baby, but now that Thredson was alive, it was much too big and too obvious of a place for her to hide in.

"Hi baby." She whispered as the infant yawned. Lana was jealous. She wanted to sleep too.

"Isn't she a little young to be traveling all this way?" The older lady sitting next to Lana inquired. The woman had been knitting the whole trip and had barely looked up from her project, and yet was full of curiosity about Lana and her child. "I've seen you before." She continued.

"Oh, no I-I don't think so." She laughed.

"Oh yes, yes of course I have now where, was it…"

"No, No I-I'm not from around here, I don't think you have." She lied. The woman knew perfectly well she was from the Boston area.

"Oh well…what's your baby's name?" She inquired, thinking this might be an easier conversation topic. In truth it was a harder one.

"H-her name?" Lana asked.

"Yes, she's such a cute little doll what's her name?"

Lana looked down at the baby for a moment. She knew she was going to have to give this child a name at some point, and she'd already been thinking about it, but it was a big decision and she was no where near ready to decide. Lana focused her attention on the newborn's face and thought quickly about all the things she wanted this baby to have, and more importantly, names she wanted to avoid and also ones she'd liked over the years. She had a name she adored from long ago, back when she still thought she'd marry a man and have children. Lana bit her lip and smiled slightly.

"Her name's Linnea." She told the woman.

"Awe isn't that a pretty name?" She complimented. "Linnea."

So, from that day on, Lana's baby was known as Linnea Isabella Winters.


	3. Somebody's Precious Baby, Part I

Chapter Three- Somebody's Precious Baby, Part I

Wherever they were now, it was hot outside. The sun beat down mercilessly on Lana's window, the intense heat punctuated only by occasional shade from the large trees that lined each side of the road. Lana, though, wasn't paying attention to that, but was instead tending to her sobbing infant. This baby really liked to cry, and as an alternative, she liked to nurse, neither of which were really all that acceptable on a bus full of other people.

"Shu, shu, shu. Linnea you have to be quiet now or you and I are going to get into a lot of trouble." Lana warned quietly, but the baby listened to no reason and paraded on with loud tears.

Lana realized that her situation was awfully strange. She'd been receiving disapproving looks from people for the past two days, and understandably so. After all, who brought a brand new baby on a several thousand-mile bus trip? Someone who was running from something, that's who.

Everyone on the bus eyed her with contempt, after all, the crying newborn made for a much more difficult ride than it already would've been, but in turn Lana regarded them with suspicion. She was afraid, by the way the other passengers looked at her, that someone had the wrong idea about her and Linnea. That maybe they thought she'd kidnapped her or something…

In truth, Lana thought her daughter's tears were a result of her own inability to care for her well and that scared her. She didn't know what she was doing with a baby. And since she hadn't originally planned on keeping it, she hadn't made any effort to learn what she was doing before making the rash decision to keep her forever.

"Ooh I hope you're alright." Lana whispered more to herself than to Linnea.

Lana considered that she may've done the wrong thing in running. Perhaps they should've hid at Lois' for a while until she figured out what was actually going on: where Oliver even was. She'd run without verifying the facts and the reporter in her could kick herself for it. On the same token, Lana looked down at the little hand she was holding and something told her she'd made a good choice, despite the screaming.

"Can you possibly make that baby any quieter?" A frustrated woman across the aisle demanded. Lana felt bad, she knew she had a headache.

It had been many days and people on the bus had come and gone. Lana didn't even recognize most of them anymore, but noted they were now turned every which way, peering over their shoulders and jumping out of their seats to glare at her. It was almost surreal, or it would have been if it weren't for her-own lack of sleep.

"I-I'm sorry." Lana hesitated. "I think there's something wrong…" she was about to say that she thought something was wrong with the baby, but was interrupted by the sudden slowing down of the bus. It had stopped? Out here in the middle of nowhere? All was quiet for a split second save Linnea's tears.

"Last stop, Catsfield, Georgia." She heard the bus driver announce.

"Last stop?" Lana questioned. She panicked for a moment.

She'd thought this bus went to Atlanta…from Atlanta, Lana had planned on going to California…It was in that moment that Lana understood. No one reached for their bag, or got up to walk to the door…no, instead all eyes were on her. Minutes later, Lana held her crying baby as she stood alone outside the bus.

"You can't do this!" She shrieked over Linnea's screaming. "I'll call the bus company you know! I'll sue…forget that! I'm a reporter. I'll write the biggest expose you've ever seen I-!"

The bus driver shook his head and laughed, Lana was surprised when he tossed out the first piece of luggage, very carelessly. The large white case almost missed hitting the bundle in her arms. Lana felt helpless, dodging the second and third cases as he tossed them out.

"Hey! Be more careful! You almost hit the baby!" Lana was surprised to feel a surge of maternal instinct run through her veins. She didn't think she'd ever been angry in quite that way before. "And you can't leave me here! What kind of heartless, insensitive jerks are you to do this to a three-day-old baby! She's tiny she doesn't know she's…"

She felt like the smallest person in the world when the driver laughed once more, got back into his seat and began to drive away, everyone on the bus applauding him.

"You'll regret this!" She called. Lana was devastated and scared. What were they going to do now?

"See what you've done!" She said to the baby. She was enraged. The infant, though, just began to cry even louder at her mother's rebuke. "Oh Linnea…I'm sorry, I hope you're okay. I really, really do." She said quietly, changing her tune and bringing the child closer to her. "Hey it's going to be okay, I promise. I promise."

Lana looked around quickly, still rocking the baby very quietly humming: "shu" under her breath as though it were going to do any good at all. The sun was beginning to set on the sleepy little town. At least the driver had had the decency to abandon her just outside a town instead of on the side of the road miles from anything, which was what she'd thought was happening at very first.

Lana observed that it was a quaint little place with lots of peach trees and picket fences. It was pleasantly cool outside now that the oppressive sun was setting for the evening. In the distance, Lana could see rows and rows of lush trees, shooting up high in the sky, their branches sweeping gently down to the rooftops below. The road leading into town was still made of gravel. It was one of those places that real city life had never touched in that way and probably never would.

Lana didn't quite know what to do, other than to go into town, holding the baby in one arm and her luggage in the other. One case, the biggest one, contained her clothes, the second, her make up and a few things for the baby and the third: her typewriter and manuscript…boy that would've really hurt had it hit her in the head…it almost had.

Lana felt as if she were walking down a gauntlet as she shuffled into town. She understood quickly that this was the kind of place where people spent their summer evenings simply. Sitting on their porches with family and friends, having a quiet, but peaceful evening. And that evening, it seemed that the entire community had suspended with its regular activities, at least for a few moments a piece, to watch the Yankee lady and her baby as they walked through the neighborhood. Lana ascertained, given her proclivity for literature about the rural south, that she would soon be the talk of the town.

By this time, Linnea had grown quiet. Lana wanted desperately to ask the child why she couldn't have done that an hour before: they'd almost be to Atlanta now if she had. The answer was simple. Linnea was comfortable now. She was hungry and the bus had been too stuffy for a baby from Boston.

The town's people's stares made Lana nervous, they weren't too different from the glares she'd gotten on the bus, and it made her wonder if there was any acceptable place in the world for her and Linnea. She was beginning to think that there was no place for them to go. And if these people only knew, that she was gay, and her precious baby was a result of a heinous and violent act, a child begotten by a murderer, they would most certainly throw her out of town…if they didn't hang her first…that was exactly why she'd been shooting for San Francisco as a destination…not backward little Catsfield, Georgia.

Lana was about to stop and beg for help, but then she saw the town square on the horizon and told herself she could keep going. There had to be a hotel, or an inn there, right? There just had to be. Her luck wasn't that…yeah actually yes it was that bad. Or it had been as of late. Nonetheless, Lana decided to keep up hoping that there would be something, or someone around here who would help her. She had no other choice, there had to be.

The center of town was picturesque and sleepy, there was a school, a general store, a gas station, a small newspaper office, a diner, a bar of course…it was everything you needed for living out in the no where and not a bit more. It seemed like a very pleasant place to live. Lana almost liked it. Almost. Downtown, if you could call it that, was a little busier. All the kids were at the drug store, having ice cream, younger children were playing in the town square…and of course, the bar was busy.

Lana's feet were killing her by the time she finally made it an the inn. This town was bigger than she had thought and she could see it was dotted with small homes, businesses and even farms, far beyond where the inn lye just behind the library. The inn was large broken down old house. Despite its disrepair it looked warm and inviting. Lana wondered if perhaps it had been a plantation house at one time, the rest of the town having been built around it. But that was the writer in her, the part that could venture on forever, but the vunerable human in Lana only sought rest and refuge at this point.

"My dear, are you alone with a little baby?" Asked the woman behind the desk as she walked into the lobby. She could not fathom being alone like this with a newborn baby and traveling on top of it.

"Yes I am." She said, surprised that someone finally noticed. "I-uh, I'm very tired. Can I have a room and don't tell me you don't take babies."

"Of course we take babies. But she looks like she can't be more than a few days old at the very…"

"She's three days old." Lana said.

"What would you be doing out in the middle of nowhe-" Like many of the other townspeople, this woman took one look at Lana and knew she was a Yankee.

"Look." Lana interrupted. She thought some people were just far too invasive about other people's lives. On the same token, part of her was glad someone finally seemed to care. "My baby and I are very tired. And she and I are looking for a place to make a new start."

The woman realized that someone would have to be pretty desperate to leave everything and make a new start with a brand new baby. She knew for her it would have to be a matter of life and death.

"I'm sure I couldn't imagine. I'm Kate, by the way." She smiled. "I'll get someone to help you with your bags."

By true nightfall, Linnea, oblivious to all of her mother's many worries, exhausted herself and fell into a deep asleep. Lana just wanted to lye down, she didn't really care where it was that her head fell, just as long as she got to rest for a while. She had barely slept in the several days it had been since she'd had the baby.

Exhausted in every way, she was still in pain from the birth and struggling to stay awake. Lana sighed, looking down at her sleeping child as she wrapped her tightly in a swaddling blanket. Linnea settled further into her mother's arms as soon as she was wrapped up. She sighed, signaling that she was comfortable there, but Lana nearly recoiled from the child's touch.

For lack of a better place to put her, Lana pulled out a big drawer from the bureau, put a blanket inside and then rested the newborn inside the drawer. It wasn't perfect, but it would do as a makeshift bassinet for now. Lana forced herself to run her fingers through the baby's barely there brown hair. She was greatly distressed by the whole thing; by showing it affection.

Lana pulled away and couldn't bring herself to touch the baby again. Part of her, wanted to kiss her goodnight, but another part wanted no part of having that kind of closeness with Linnea. She deeply regretted that part of her felt terrible about that: and that another part almost fought back. She hated that a sliver of her ached to show Linnea a mother's love.

Lana acknowledged that she was so fragmented she was afraid the pieces would never ever come together and that she would dissolve into a crazed mess one that truly belonged in Briarcliff.

"Good night." She whispered instead of giving up or giving in. "Have sweet dreams Linnea. We'll find some way to get through. I promise."

Lana climbed into the warm, soft bed and pulled the covers up to her neck, her own words to Oliver seeming to haunt her as she fought to fall asleep. She wished so much that she'd never said that everybody deserved to be someone's precious baby.

…

"Lana…"

Lana's eyes fluttered open and she looked up to see Kate, the inn's owner standing over her with Linnea in her arms. Many hours had passed and morning had arrived.

"Oh! I'm so sorry I…" She burst, prepared to be scolded for not hearing her own child's cry earlier that morning.

"No. It's alright." She smiled sweetly and sat down on the bed next to her. "She's quiet now. You just gave birth a few days ago, didn't you?" She clarified.

"Yes." Lana wondered what this had to do with anything.

Kate could tell. Linnea was so very tiny and Lana was obviously exhausted in a way that seemed very specific to her as someone who'd had three children of her own.

"You must've run from something horrific to come all the way down here. To the middle of nowhere." Lana nodded, neglecting to tell her she'd been thrown off the Atlanta bus, and mumbled a quiet yes, almost afraid they'd been caught or something now. Lana didn't want to give away much about her situation and had even contemplated using a fake name.

"It's not something I can explain but. We're running from someone who means us both harm. The baby and me. And I needed to keep her safe. So you're quite right. I did the only thing I could do…I ran. Maybe without thinking too much about where I was going. I'm sorry if she cried and…"

"No its fine. She's a good baby." Kate smiled, tucking Lana back in to bed with her free hand. Lana was greatly surprised at this. Everything she'd learned at Briarcliff should've told her to be suspicious of this woman but the strange thing was she wasn't.

"My daughters and I came here sixteen years ago under a similar circumstance." Lana seriously doubted that. "And I opened this inn, not only as a-a source of peace and tranquility for myself but as a means to help passers by." Lana didn't quite know what to make of this but was surprised to discover that Kate had brought her tea and toast.

"I'll care for both of you." She said. "As long as you need the help and a place to stay." Kate had prayed about this and understood Lana was in need.

Lana said nothing for a moment and guzzled down the tea as soon as she'd gotten a hold of it. She'd darted from Boston so fast she'd forgotten all about her own nourishment over the past several days and now realized that among other things, she was famished.

"Can you teach me something…about how to take care of a baby?" She asked carefully, biting into the toast. Kate smiled.


	4. Somebody's Precious Baby, Part 2

_**Chapter 4- Somebody's Precious Baby, Part 2**_

_**One-Year and a half later- March 1967**_

Lana sat at her desk with a cigarette poised carefully between her lips, her fingers hovered over the keys of her typewriter but she was not writing, the words just wouldn't come together. Looking up, she saw one and half year old Linnea staring at her with wide eyes from her place on the other side of the living room.

"Liii." Linnea squealed, reaching for her. Lana shook her head, ignoring the child and defiantly beginning to write anyway.

After living with Kate for several months, Lana had found a small place for them to live: it wasn't much of anything, just a quaint little cottage, with a bedroom, living room and tiny kitchen. It was the kind of place where the hearth took center stage and all of the seasons made the home's light and temperature change drastically throughout the year. Sometimes Lana thought it was barely enough for them to turn around in. But it was enough, and most importantly, she didn't think they'd ever be found there. Oliver would never expect her to move to rural Georgia.

The town tranquil little town had grown on Lana as much as anyone could expect it to. It wasn't exactly her type of place: she didn't think a lesbian single Mom really belonged there, but then again, where was any single Mom to go where she'd feel all that welcomed? Ultimately Lana had chosen to stay there because she wanted to do everything to make sure Linnea's world shaped her into someone completely different from Oliver Thredson. For that reason she wanted her to grow up somewhere as pleasant and traditional (aka, all-American, apple pie, Mom's the swellest (note: not the greatest, the _swellest_) as possible.

Linnea watched carefully from her place in her playpen, watching the cigarette smoke rise above her mother's head and high into the air. The baby tilted her own head, listening carefully to the familiar tune of the typewriter keys clicking with exact and speedy precision. It had probably been the most constant and comforting sound in her short life. It was the background hum that filled her thoughts and reminded her of Mom.

Lana had gotten to work, carefully crafting her story practically from the moment she'd shot Thredson and had only stopped long enough to give birth and then take a bus to Georgia. She spent her days zealously working on her manuscript, caring for Linnea only as needed. Lana ripped the piece of paper out of the typewriter, giving it a scrutinizing, but quick read. Dissatisfied, she crumbled it into a ball and tossed it over her shoulder, missing the wire paper wastebasket in the corner. Lana sighed and put the cigarette down in the ashtray on her desk.

There was something about this that just wasn't coming out right. It was as if her experience couldn't be conveyed genuinely or with the kind of specificity she'd been aiming for and it was frustrating. Lana looked up again when she heard the sound of Linnea mumbling.

"Llululll…" Linnea babbled, reaching for Lana with big bright eyes.

"What is it?" She asked from her place in her desk chair. Linnea simply persisted in babbling and reaching for her.

Lana and Linnea didn't talk much. It was for the same reason that Lana still didn't kiss her baby goodnight when she went to sleep. She knew this was a problem now that Linnea was older and struggling to say simple words. The very first words that most babies say were foreign to Linnea. First there was Dada, which, seemed like it was every baby's first word. Linnea of course, didn't have one or have any clue that she was missing him. Then there was Mama. Mama was a little more complex.

Presently, Linnea wanted to say Mama but had no idea how. She was searching for the word for Mom, in her mumbling but had no inclination as to what the word actually was. Lana never said Mama this, or Mama that, or Mama loves you…yet something in Linnea's senses still searched for something to call Mommy anyway. The only thing she could try to say was the only word she heard a lot: her own name…but the girl stumbled on the word. It was too hard for her and she knew it wasn't what she wanted to say.

Lana picked up her cigarette again, tapping it against the ashtray before putting it back in her mouth. Once she was ready, she went back to typing. Linnea watched her mother's head move back and forth as she paid homage to her typewriter but completely ignored her cries for attention. Linnea was beginning to get frustrated. She took a toy and tried throwing it at her Mom, an idea, which of course failed. The ratty, stuffed thing didn't even make it outside the playpen.

"Liulllll…" She cried hopelessly.

"Linnea. I'm trying to concentrate." She explained carefully, without looking up from her work. Linnea didn't care a bit about this and began to reach for her mother and cry.

Lana buried her head back in her work, urging herself to ignore the child's cries. But, the more she was ignored the louder the girl's screaming became. Lana put her hands over her ears and drew a deep, frustrated breath, causing Linnea to scream bloody-murder in protest. Lana hated it when Linnea got mad and tried to demand something of her, not something like a changing or a bottle, but emotional intimacy. Even though she was just a baby, this kind of demand made her think of Oliver and all the ways he'd forcibly demanded affection from her and it made her almost crack.

"LINNEA STOP! JUST SHUT IT!" Lana snapped. She was comforted and all was silent, save the baby's tears soon as the words came out. Lana stopped for a moment and frowned, just watching the poor baby sob.

"Alright, alright. I'll hold you. Come here." Lana gave in. Part of her wanted to say, 'I'm sorry,' but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she put down her cigarette and crossed over to pick up the baby.

Linnea sighed and gave her mother a simple appreciative hug, resting her head on her shoulder. Lana felt shame rush over her every time the baby did this. She knew Linnea loved her, and desired that same feeling back, that she didn't understand why she wasn't loved back…the whole concept scared Lana. Linnea smiled, having gotten just what she'd wanted from her Mom, even as she began to cough.

"Why are you coughing when I hold you?" She asked, her tone changing completely from just a moment ago. "Are you sick honey?"

This had been worrying her lately as it had been happening an awful lot. Linnea coughed all the time, especially when she held her, something else that had been keeping them from bonding. Lana placed her hand against Linnea's forehead, observing that she felt just right.

"You're not warm." She commented as Linnea's coughing started again. "Come here, you can sit with me and write."

Lana didn't know what to do and took the baby to sit with her at her desk. Sometimes that calmed her down when she was upset. Linnea closed her eyes tightly and sneezed in the direction of the cigarette, which was still smoking in the ashtray. Linnea began to rub her eyes and sob in her mother's ear. Lana groaned and carried Linnea out into the garden, the only place where her coughing seemed to subside.

….

"Goodnight Linnea, be a good little girl and please sleep all night." Lana

asked. Several hours had passed. Bedtime had come and the little girl's coughing had finally stopped.

Lana tucked her back into her drawer bed. She felt awful that the baby was still sleeping in a drawer after all this time. She gazed down uncomfortably at her daughter, ashamed that she still could not muster up the strength to give the baby a good night kiss, especially after she'd had such a hard day with being so sick. She scolded herself, recalling her own goal to give this baby everything Oliver never had, and that included a mother's love.

Lana cried softly as she watched the child sleep. Linnea had grown so much, she seemed like she was twice the size she was when they'd first come there. She was almost more of a toddler now, and had grown dark brown hair just like her own. Lana couldn't deny that she was cute, her lips puffed out in a little pout as her chest rose and fell. She brushed her finger over Linnea's cheek, causing both of them to smile, one because she relished her mother's affection, even in sleep, and getting it was rare, the other because giving it was a bittersweet thing for her.

Lana was jealous. She wished she could sleep as peacefully as her daughter but she couldn't…she slept with one eye open these days: afraid of being found by Oliver in the night. Another part of her didn't sleep because her conscious was egging her on, urging her to grow up in ways she wasn't ready for. Linnea had grown so much, and she hadn't grown at all, the contrast was a bit much for her.

Part of her longed to give the sweet baby a kiss and to say 'Mama loves you.' She realized she did have those feelings for the baby and that she deserved to know it. Lana felt so genuinely conflicted about this. Lana knew the lack of affection she showed the baby was horrible, and she worried she was slowly making another Bloodyface in her emotional neglect.

"Good night." She whispered again, brushing the girl's cheek with her fingertip.

Lana was tired from writing and caring for the baby, both, which were constant intellectual and emotional demands. She turned around to crawl into her own bed, which was just a couple of feet away. She barely made it under the covers before falling into a deep sleep. A part of Lana told herself, once again, as she drifted off, that she was ashamed of her lack of affection toward her own baby. Another part just missed Wendy.

She missed having someone to cuddle up to in the night and moreover, Wendy would know exactly what to do with this baby: how to feed it, how to make it a good person, and most importantly, how to love it…how to accept it after how it had gotten there….for who it was. Lana said a little prayer as she fell asleep, hoping that one day soon she could accept her daughter for who she was: _Her_ daughter, an individual: Linnea Winters, because she deserved to be her mother's precious baby, not just Bloodyface's spawn.

"_Lana."_

"_Um-mum…" She mumbled in response to the calm whisper in her ear._

"_Wake up sleepy head." Came a very familiar female voice. _

"_Where am I?" Lana asked, she had this weird feeling time had stopped._

"_In Georgia, I guess. It's a nice place. But you always did have good taste Lana."_

"_No baby, you're the one with the good taste." She teased. Her eyes were closed and she replied without even thinking. "Oh! Wendy! Wendy? Is that you?!" Lana found herself mumbling, realizing that that's who it was: it was Wendy, right there with her. Lana sat up and hugged her former partner, wondering for a moment if she was dead too. "Oh Wendy, I'm sorry it's all my fault! If I could take it back I…"_

"_Shu! No, no, no, no…Lana I'm fine. I'm fine where I am. And if you could take it back, then you wouldn't have her. And you wouldn't have a mission ahead either."_

"_A-a mission? And you know about Linnea?" Lana questioned, raising an eyebrow.  
"She's beautiful Lana: she looks like you." Wendy smiled. Lana laughed. They'd dreamed of sharing such comments together, about having children._

"_Wendy, I don't know what to do, you were the kid person…and after what happened…Wendy there's part of my own child that revolts me." She confessed to the only person she thought might possibly understand this. "And at the same time, I love her more than I've ever loved anyone in my life, even you." Wendy smiled. _

"_She's your baby you should love her more than anyone in the world…she's the blessing in all of this…you can't see that right now, but she is. Keep it locked in your heart and remember every time you look at her, how much it hurt when you lost a mother's love." _

_Lana swallowed nervously. Wendy always had great points. This was a rather painful one, being disowned by a mother she had loved had hurt. She didn't want Linnea to feel that way about her. The baby could help who it was less than she could help that she was gay, after all, there's no pretending your father isn't who your father is, but you can always pretend to have different interests…many people did. _

"_Wendy I….how do I love her? I want to love her."_

_ "Open your heart. Accept her like you wish people would've accepted us…realize that she can't help how she got in this world….remember that she's not dirty, or tainted. Most of all Lana, remember that she loves you unconditionally."_

"_Oh, yes, yes she does." _Lana gasped, mumbling to herself as she began to stir from her sleep, she clutched her pillowcase with one hand, allowing these words of truth to run through her. Linnea did love her completely unconditionally. Lana could hear crying in the background, but Wendy was still there with her.

"_Now Lana, it's time to get up!'_

"_What, why?" Her voice was barely audible. _

"_Wake up, wake up! Lana wake up, your baby needs you!"_

Lana sat up straight in bed, gasping for breath. She looked down to see Linnea screaming again, her cries interchanged with an uncontrollable coughing attack. It took Lana a moment to figure out where she was and realize that Wendy wasn't there, she'd just been a dream and moreover, that the baby needed help.

"Oh it's okay, it's okay baby!" Lana burst, swiftly putting on her robe and gathering the child in her arms. She observed that Linnea's face was bright red and she was having a hard time breathing.

"Oh baby it's okay, it's okay." Lana soothed as she made her way outside her front door, not even bothering to lock up behind her.

It was in this moment that Lana regretted not owning a car, if she did, she'd go to the hospital right then. She knew, with certainty that that's where they needed to go. Lana looked all round for signs of her neighbors and realized no one else who lived along this quaint little dirt road was awake yet, even though it was almost sunrise. Linnea's cries and coughs echoed into the dark.

"Sweetheart I don't know what's wrong, but it's okay, it's going to be okay." She soothed, again, pulling the girl and her blanket into a hug. She could sense that Linnea was panicked now, almost like a person who was drowning and that added to her own fear and confusion. At the same time, it hastened her willingness to comfort the baby. "Shu, shu love you're alright. You're alright."

Lana could feel her own heart begin to pound vigorously as she made her way down the road. She didn't know where she was going. Kate's was pretty far away and she knew she needed someone to help immediately. But by now she'd come to feel that she was searching for help in vein. She scowered her neighbor's homes, searching for anyone with a light on, or a car, not having realized before that no one around here seemed to own a car. Lana calmed herself by hoping against all hope that the fresh air would make the crying and the coughing stop: because it always seemed to.

On that same note Lana was afraid because she had no idea what was happening to the baby. Why had the coughing gone on all day? Why was it so much worse than it had been? Lana gulped, realizing this was her fault, she should've taken her somewhere hours ago. But her panic spiked once she realized that the baby was not alright. Not at all.

Instead, of being healed by the fresh air, as Lana had hoped, Linnea made a turn for the worse as they ventured down the road toward town. Lana was highly alarmed when she noticed Linnea's tears stop. The child's cries ceased and were replaced with a labored wheezing and gasping for air….it was as if she didn't have the strength to cry anymore, just to gasp.

"Linnea? Linnea!" Lana shook the baby gently and pat the little girl's face, terrified that there was no real response, just a tiny gasp. It was the exact opposite of what would've happened had the baby just calmed down like she had several hours before. It was as if she was withering away: slowly, painfully…"No, no, not like this!" Lana begged, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. "Please!" She cried. "She doesn't deserve this! Linnea!" She placed her forehead against the child's as she continued to cry. Lana sunk to her knees in defeat, careful to keep the girl out of the dirt. "Linnea Mommy's here, she's not going to leave you I don't know how but I promise it's going to be okay."

…

_**Three Hours Later, Boston **_

Oliver Thredson leaned casually against the bars of his jail cell smoking his pipe. He'd been in jail awaiting trial since the day his son had been born and was eager to get out to meet him. Despite having spent more than a year in jail, Oliver was very much the same guy. He still thought about his crimes and privately took joy in them. He still wore his glasses and gave the appearance of being very clean cut. For the better part, he was a well-behaved prisoner and for that reason the guards feared him. His calmness was perceived as having been more calculating in nature than it was true peacefulness. This was of course, proved by the fact that he'd snap every once in a while and start screaming about some woman named Lana…all the guards assumed this must've been a victim who escaped.

Oliver was unaware of it, but his attorney, Hayden Thomas III, a high profile defense attorney who'd graduated top of his class at Harvard, thought his confinement had driven him further into the depths of insanity. He was on trial faced with nine counts of murder, eleven counts of kidnapping, and several charges of aggravated assault. Despite everything Oliver had a myopic focus that he let his lawyer know about every time he saw him and had enlisted his help with: find his son and Lana. Oliver still wanted _his _son and even more than that, he wanted revenge on Lana for taking him away.

Oliver clenched his fist in disgust as he thought of the mother of his child, the one who'd taken him away and probably given the poor boy up to the system.

'Oh even if I had this thing, you'd never see it.' Her threat from over a year ago at Briarcliff played in his head over and over and over again like a tape recording. He couldn't escape from it and it enraged him, he was furious that she'd been able to keep that promise, that she'd been able to take the baby he wanted, the one _she'd _been trying to kill. She was the one who should've been in there, not him!

"Arrrrrrrggggggg!" Oliver gave an angry scream and slammed his breakfast tray onto the cold cement floor, the cereal bowl rolling around and finally slamming to a stop when it ran into the wall.

"Oliver!" A voice cautioned, it was his attorney. Hayden Thomas approached, dressed head to toe in a beautiful navy suit, the kind Oliver himself may've worn at one time. "Oliver calm down. This isn't going to get you anywhere. I've warned you before!" Hayden yelled. He wasn't the type to yell but he'd found that sometimes it seemed to be the only way to get through to Oliver.

"Why are you here? It's not to talk about that trial again?" Oliver didn't like to talk about the trial and thought the whole matter was ridiculous.

"Uh…look I have some news and I think you might be a little upset at first so, please just listen."

"What kind of news?" Oliver raised an eyebrow, Hayden was taken aback at how quickly Oliver could transform from a monster to a calm and seemingly rational person.

"You've been asking me to track down Lana Winters and find out anything I can about that baby…"

"Yeah where are they?"

"Well you keep saying 'my son,' 'my son,'…Oliver you don't have a son."

"What! No that baby's mine!"

Oliver's lawyer smirked finding it so funny that he'd confess to kidnapping and rape so quickly because he actually thought he had a legal claim to the resulting child, which he did not, especially now that Ms. Winters had fled with it instead of giving it up. In reality he was looking for information on Lana and the baby because not because Oliver had asked him, but because the DA wanted her to testify against him in this trial.

"Oh the baby's yours…._biologically_," he emphasized, "but Oliver it's not a son…it's a girl."

"I-it's girl? A-are you meaning to tell me Lana had a girl?"

"Yes." He said, wondering what else he possibly could've met.

"That's wonderful." He smiled suddenly. Hayden was taken aback. Oliver had never considered having a daughter and the idea thrilled him. "What's her name, when do I get to see her?"

"We have no idea what her name is…or where she is. The paperwork just says baby girl, Winters. Oliver I know you don't like to, but we really do need to talk about the trial."

"No! I told you before. They're just trying to get me because of my involvement at Briarcliff."

"Oliver get real, we have to talk about your defense."

"My defense? I told you already! There's room for a mistrial…"

Hayden took a deep breath and continued. "Oliver, you murdered and tortured nine women…probably more. And you kidnapped and raped Lana Wint…"

"Don't ever talk to me about that woman!" Oliver was very suddenly angry again and Hayden decided to just stand and watch him as his anger turned to laughter.

"I can't believe she made my son a girl!" He growled. Hayden knew he couldn't really have been happy about that news.

"It's your fault she's a girl….biologically." Hayden said simply. He didn't like Oliver and liked, whenever he could, to point out truths like this.

"Why does she get to have her?! She's the one who tried to kill her! I'm the one who wanted her!" Oliver screamed.

Hayden sighed, realizing he'd get nowhere with Oliver on that day. Looking down at his feet and laughing a little to himself, he turned his back on his client and slowly walked out the door. He listened to Oliver continue to tirade as he walked away, and wondered if he shouldn't plead insanity after all, he hadn't planned to because Oliver was so meticulous and calculating. While maniacal, Hayden thought he was very conscious of everything he did, and so did the psychiatrists he'd sent to see him. Hayden observed that Oliver's voice seemed to morph as he began to speak again, it sounded almost as if it belonged to a demonic force.

"I'm going to get you Lana!" Oliver screamed back at Hayden. "I'm going to get you for taking my son away! I'm getting out! And I promise…I'm coming for you both, Lana Banana!"


	5. Cold Turkey

Chapter 5- Cold Turkey

A single tear rolled down Lana's cheek. Hours had passed but the poor little girl still hadn't woken up. Lana was having a hard time being in the hospital. The place reminded her of the last time she'd been in the hospital with Linnea: when she'd given birth and been forced to keep a baby she never wanted to see or know. Lana smiled bitter sweetly, running her fingers through the girl's dark brown hair. She was breathing steadily but was unconscious and no one had uttered a word to her about what might be wrong…or if she'd be all right.

"It's going to be okay." Lana promised the girl, not knowing whether or not this was true.

But it had to be, she felt too guilty about everything including why she was there in the first place. The coughing had lasted for hours and more than that it was a reoccurring event. She knew it wasn't normal; she was a horrible mother and should've done something to figure out what was wrong instead of just trying to make it stop every time it happened.

"Linnea I…Linnea I'm so sorry." She said to the sleeping girl. "Again, I made this about me…and my fears when it was about you…its my job to protect you that I've known since I first held you but…I-I think I'm just now realizing that its also my job to take care of you…to comfort you…to really love you. I'm sorry I haven't been able to face that until now…not in the way I should've." Lana paused considering that now it might be too late. "You're wonderful baby, the best I ever could've asked for, and I'm sorry I'm not the Mother you deserved to have. But despite it all…I love you. You deserve better and I promise that from now on I'm going to try to be better. I'd do anything to make it up to you."

Lana hoped she'd get the chance for that….she wasn't sure _she_ deserved it but she knew without a doubt that Linnea did. To seal this promise, she leaned over and kissed the unconscious girl on the forehead. Linnea, of course, would never know of the promises her mother had made to her that day but Lana promised herself she'd never forget.

This experience had traumatized her in a way she didn't think she'd ever be able to shake. It was a devastating but much needed wake up call for her, one that taught her to appreciative of what she had, and reminded her in a not so gentle way that Linnea was all she had, it caused her to realize just how much the girl met to her. Lana couldn't stomach the thought of loosing her now.

"It's okay baby it's going to be okay…you and I are going to start over again." She whispered.

"Mrs. Winters?" Lana turned when she heard the doctor and a nurse approach the room.

"Yes." She said.

The nurse moved in and began to look over Linnea while the doctor asked if she could speak to her outside the room. Lana's hesitated but followed him out the door, turning back to look at her baby as she went, disturbed by the realization that she didn't want to leave Linnea's side.

"You came just in time Mrs…" The Doctor began.

"Ms. Winters." She corrected, emphasizing the Ms. part. He was surprised for a moment then smiled.

"It's a good thing you came Ms. Winters…"

"What's wrong with her?" Lana asked, interrupting him again.

"It's fairly simple." He began, he'd come up with a diagnosis shortly after beginning to question Lana earlier in their visit and they'd run some tests to be sure. "You have a perfectly healthy baby."

"What? Well then what caused…"

"She's allergic to cigarette smoke."

"W-what?" Lana raised an eyebrow. How could Linnea be allergic when she was addicted?

"You smoke?" He inquired.

"Yeah."

"You said she's fine if she's playing outside, if you're in town, if you're out in the garden…you said she gets sick when you write, I'd guess you smoke some of the time you write…" Lana nodded. She definitely did. "You said you've been having issues holding her: that she begins to cough…your clothes are covered in cigarette smoke, aren't they?" Lana didn't bother to answer this question as it was obvious that yes, her clothes were totally covered in cigarette smoke.

"So, she's okay?" Lana asked.

"If you quit smoking she is."

"Q-quit?" Lana asked. This was a bombshell for her.

"Quit. And it has to be cold turkey. She absolutely cannot be around that stuff. It triggers a severe allergic kind of asthma in her."

"Okay." Lana gulped, looking over the doctor's shoulder to take a glimpse at her sleeping baby. "Cold turkey." She promised herself.

"I would suggest airing out your house for a few days, washing everything…all your clothes, all of the baby's things, the bed linens….every thing. Leave the doors and windows open, perhaps staying elsewhere if you can manage might be a good idea." Lana nodded. It would take time but she could do all of that.

Very suddenly they heard a toddler begin to cry. Lana turned and bolted back into the room, surprising herself with her concern. Linnea was scared and had no idea where she was. Most of all it freaked her out that she was alone in this strange room with a woman she didn't know touching her arm and Lana no where in sight.

"Linnea, Linnea, it's okay, Mommy's here, she's right here." Lana offered as she rushed to her side. Linnea reached out her arms for her Mom as soon as she saw her and her crying slowed. Lana rushed into pick her up the doctor stopped her.

"Ms. Winters, I wouldn't pick her up if I were you." He said.

"What?" Lana was devastated. It was probably the first time she really, really wanted to hold Linnea and this was how she was rewarded?

"The cigarette smoke, remember?" He reminded kindly.

"Oh…yeah…"

"You have a very healthy child in most respects…but a very sensitive one with a couple of allergies. We're going to keep her here until the evening for observation, just to make sure we didn't miss anything."

"Okay…"

"In that time, I suggest that you go home and begin airing out your house…cleaning your clothes…"

Lana didn't know how she was supposed to do this so quickly. The smell of cigarette smoke took forever to get rid of…if you ever could. Lana was about to agree when Linnea's crying grew more intense and she reached out for her again.

"I'm sorry, but don't hug her, even though she wants you to. It'll only do her more harm than good."

Lana was heartbroken at this and began crying softly. Life was so pitifully ironic. It reminded her of the time at Briarcliff when they'd just told her she had a bun in the oven and then sent her to the bakery and forced her to put buns in the oven…only now she wasn't seeking a wire coat-hanger, just the opposite in fact.

"Okay I understand." She dried her tears. The nurse moved in to hug Linnea in her place, causing the baby to scream. She wanted Lana and was extremely frustrated.

"It's alright Ms. Winters, I promise, she'll calm down, she'll be safe with me for a few hours."

"Okay just…" Lana sniffled. "Could you give me a few minutes with her. I promise I won't pick her up."

"Sure." The doctor smiled, catching on to the irony that a mother's hug was dangerous for a child. He could only imagine what it would feel like to be that parent. He and the nurse went and stood outside, shutting the door behind them.

"Oh Linnea, Mommy's so sorry." Lana got on her knees by the girl's bed.

"Ma-ma!" Linnea squeaked, excited to finally have an answer to that question.

Lana laughed, so happy to hear her speak clearly, without labored breathing, and stranger, it was nice to hear her say Mama it made her feel…loved and she had expected anything but that.

"Yes Linnea. I'm Mama." Lana felt like she was admitting this to her. "Did you hear any of what I said earlier? I said I love you." Lana was crying now. "A-and I promise you and I are going to start over together. There's a difference between your needing someone to care for you and someone to really love you and know now I really, really love you. What happened to me doesn't negate that I have a responsibility to you, that you're part of me…it can't, even the pain can't take a way the fact that…that I care about you Linnea. I've known I needed to protect you for a long time but." She sniffled. "I d-didn't know how much before. I love you baby girl. No matter how you got here, or who your Daddy is. Lets you and I forget it all and begin again."

"Mama!" Linnea giggled in approval.

"Linnea." She smiled. "Now Mommy's going to go, but I'll be back in a few hours alright baby? The nurse, I think her name is Patty, she's going to play with you for a while, alright sweetheart."

"Mama…"

"I know baby, but I'll be back in a bit." She said, kissing the girl's forehead. As soon as she did this, Patty came back in and smiled, going to Linnea's side.

Linnea was confused and wondered why it was that her Mother was leaving.

"Good-bye sweetheart, I'll see you later." Lana said, watching Linnea begin to cry again.

Lana was crushed by this but left and didn't look back. She too began to cry, her face falling in her hands. She couldn't stand the irony of this day; it was like the opposite of the day that Linnea was born. On that day she hadn't wanted to hold the baby and take her home and she'd been forced to. Today, she wanted to hug her and stay with her but she'd been forced to walk away…like she'd wanted to, to begin with. It taught her one thing about herself: that she was heartless.

Lana went home to begin rearranging her life, to get rid of the smoke and begin being a good parent, essentially to start over with everything: cold turkey.

…

"Order in the court! Order in the court!" The Judge slammed down his gavel three times, calling the noisy courtroom to order.

He'd been awaiting this pre-trail hearing for more than a year while Oliver recovered from being shot and the two sides prepared their cases. Of course, they should've gotten here sooner, Mr. Thredson, after al, had the right to a speedy trial…but Oliver had gotten himself thrown out of court for berating the Judge several times. Now this was their third try and the Judge found himself, anxious to get on with the real trial…given Mr. Thredson's charges and his demeanor he knew it would be a long trial.

Oliver's attorney, Hayden Thomas III kept all of this in mind and noted that the Judge pounded his gavel in a way that denoted his feeling about the trial and the man in question…he was without a doubt, angry.

"In the matter of the state of Massachusetts verses Oliver Thredson please come forward."

The Judge cleared his throat, and eyed Oliver with a look of distain but continued on with civil procedure anyway and began to read the charges against him. The judge took a breath and calmly reminded himself: 'he's innocent until proven guilty, he's innocent until proven guilty.'

"Mr. Thredson," he continued, "is charged with nine counts of murder, eleven counts of kidnapping and five counts of rape. For which the minimum sentence is fifty years in prison and the maximum is the death penalty. Mr. Thomas, how does your client plead?"

"Your honor." Hayden began he was uncomfortable doing this. He knew Oliver was insane, but he also felt that this plea wouldn't work…there was simply too much manipulation and premeditation involved on his part for the defense to pan out in the long run, even it _seemed_ like he was crazy. "My client would like to plead insanity."

"Insanity?!" Oliver cried. "How absurd! I'm a noted member of the mental health care community! And what's all this about murder charges, I thought I was hear to get custody of my so…er daughter."

Hayden raised a frustrated eyebrow at Oliver's sudden outburst, often wondering if it was all an act or not. How could it be if he corrected himself while in the middle of the outburst? It was such a joke and he knew it would all catch up with him eventually.

"Yes your honor. Insanity." Hayden said calmly.

"Very well." The Judge said. "Mr. Thredson will be committed to Briarcliff Mental Hospital until such a time that his competence to stand trial shall be determined." He finished, pounding the gavel.

…..

"Linnea baby I'm so sorry we're back where we started." Lana soothed, rocking the baby as she fed her. It was raining outside and she sat in the rocking chair by the fire, giving Linnea a warm bottle.

Linnea was still kind of groggy from her ordeal but was happy to be home. After two weeks of staying at the inn, Lana and Kate thought that the cigarette smell had dissipated enough for them to move back into the house. As for Lana, she'd quit cigarettes and started trying to be a more caring mother: both cold turkey…it was hard at first, but she thought it was working. She and Linnea were getting closer and she was happy to be back at their house too. She had never thought she would be happy to be there…that she would call this place home.

Lana was excited about the changes that had taken place since they'd been in the hospital, even though her occasional craving for a cigarette was overwhelming. Linnea was excited too. Her mother was treating her totally differently: she picked her up, she held her, she cuddled her all the time…and most of all, she could call her Mom by a name now and that made all the difference in the world to her.

Lana noticed a profound change in Linnea since she'd started calling her Mama. Since then, she was beginning to speak more and to try to share things with her in a different way. It seemed like she had changed so much in the past few weeks. She was happy and excited, instead of confused and sad. Lana felt ashamed about this and blessed at once. She wished she'd just given in to loving the baby sooner, but was so glad that she was getting a second opportunity to embrace being Linnea's mother and she was going to give it everything she had.

"But in a way I'm not…" she continued. "It gives me a chance to do this right." She said, placing her forehead against Linnea's and the girl smiled. "I promise its going to be different, you know before you got sick I never considered that maybe you were here as a gift to me not a punishment." Linnea watched her carefully as she drank her bottle. "And now I know the bittersweet truth…no one in this world will ever love me or need me as much as you do….and just know I'll never love anyone so much either…or need anyone so much…not even Wendy." She whispered. "Linnea I'm so thankful you're okay I can't even say."

Lana had given the ordeal careful consideration and had realized that loosing Linnea would devastate her in a way that was different than loosing Wendy, who she'd always love. Wendy had been her partner, friend and love her, her death would always be devastating, there'd always be a special place in Lana's life for her…but the concept of loosing baby Linnea was unthinkable for Lana. The more she considered the possibility the less she could face it conceptually. This was her child, who she'd made, brought into the world and cared for…who had her nose and her eyes…who depended on her. Even Wendy would understand the depth of this love and approve wholeheartedly. Lana knew that losing Linnea would mean the emotional end for her in a pitifully devastating fashion.

"Lobe ewu." Linnea babbled, pulling away from the milk

"I lobe ewu too, very much Linnea Peyser Winters." She kissed the baby's temple and leaned her head against the side of the chair; deciding to listen to the quiet, calm sound of the rain pouring outside as she rocked Linnea to sleep.


	6. Even if I have this thing

Chapter Six- Even if I have this thing, you'll never see it

September 1967

"Um…um." Lana moaned.

The sun's rays radiated gently into the room through the white sheer curtains and cast themselves on Lana's face as a sort of unwanted but gentle wakeup call.

"What time is it?" She asked herself, burring her face in the pillow defiantly and reaching for the clock next to her bed. "Urrgg…" She groaned, slamming it down, causing the alarm to chime slightly. Lana threw her face back in the pillow when she discovered it was only six o'clock in the morning.

Meanwhile, Lana didn't notice the tiny person grabbing a hold of her comforter and struggling to climb on to her bed. Linnea rubbed her eyes, she was tired too but she knew what the alarm going off met and that it was time to wake up Mom. And more so than Mom, Linnea was a morning person.

"Mama up!" Linnea giggled, climbing into her mother's embrace. Linnea reached out and grabbed her mother's eyelid.

"Baby maybe we could just sleep for a…ouch!" Lana shrieked. "Good morning Linnea." Linnea laughed.

"Hi!" The girl squealed.

"Hi. I suppose its time to get up."

"Up!" The two-year-old screeched happily. She was excited for her day.

"Okay, okay. We'll get up, we'll get up my little morning person."

Lana yawned and ran her fingers through her hair as she followed Linnea into the kitchen. The happy toddler shrieked and giggled about nothing in particular as she made her way out into the living area.

"What," Lana paused to yawn, "are you so happy about this morning Miss Linnea?" She asked.

"Pan-cake."

"Oh your hungry I should've known." Lana laughed.

Cooking was one of the reasons Lana had initially thought she couldn't do this Mom thing. She was a horrible cook and had once given Wendy food poisoning early on in their relationship, which was why Wendy had done the majority of the cooking in the home they shared together. Now that she was gone, Lana thought that she'd kill herself or who ever else it was that she had to feed. Kate insisted that her cooking had improved in the time that she had lived there and it must have because it was tolerable enough for her to pick at and Linnea didn't mind it at all.

"Pancake it is." Lana promised. "And how about afterword we go and play in the garden, okay?" She asked, causing Linnea to clap.

As always it took Lana a while to cook and just as she adverted the disaster of burning the pancakes to a crisp the phone began to ring. Lana quickly dumped the smoldering pan into the sink and turned on the water. She could hear the pan hiss and sizzle as a gigantic cloud of steam rose from the sink. Lana darted for the phone, wondering who it could be. Only a very few people had her number and it was rare that she got a call.

"Hello." She began. "Oh hi Barb. What a…oh." Lana furrowed her brow and Linnea looked on curiously as she ate a bit of pancake, using her hands of course. Lana turned off the sink and sighed, barely believing what she was hearing.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks for warning me Barb. You're a good friend." Lana smiled. "No. No we'll be just fine." She reassured. "I miss you too. Say hi to Lois and everybody….oh and Linnea thanks you for that set of blocks you sent. She just loves them." Lana forced the phone back harshly into its cradle and it let out a loud chime. She sighed, wondering what she was going to do now.

"Ph…ph…"

"Phone." Lana informed. "Mommy was on the phone. It was Auntie Barb, the one who, who sent you the blocks."

Linnea smiled at this. She looked on curiously as her mother came and sat at the table in front of her. The little girl didn't notice for a moment that her Mother looked sad and distant, she stared off into space.

"Mama." She offered, reaching out and trying to hand her mother a piece of pancake once she finally caught on. Lana took it and let out a deep breath.

The last six months or so had been incredibly peaceful for Lana. It had been a much-needed rest for her and had allowed her to reset her mind and try to move on from all of the trauma she had suffered at Oliver's hands. Now that she thought about it, it seemed to have been working. She didn't spend a lot of time thinking about her sadness over Wendy, or the harm Oliver had done to her. Instead, she'd been focused on Linnea, on spending time with her and on living their new life together. She'd almost forgotten about the threat that loomed over them…about Oliver and the fact that she thought he was coming for them. And now that the threat was back she didn't want to deal with it. She hadn't even been keeping up with the case. Lana sighed again and collected her strength, looking up at her daughter. She paused looking Linnea in the eyes and smiled.

"Sweetheart. Mommy….when your bigger I'll tell you more." Lana swallowed nervously. She'd never wanted to tell Linnea any of this but she knew deep inside that one day she'd have to. It was better that she know. "But Mommy just got an upsetting phone call." Linnea looked on concerned. Lana paused again, noticing that Linnea seemed to understand. She was now totally unsure of how to proceed.

Lana observed Linnea's tiny eyes starting back at her and realized she could never explain her feelings to the baby. The natural thing to do would be to start with the word _Daddy_ but the thing was, she didn't know what a Daddy was and besides he wasn't her Daddy, just her biological father…there was a big difference. Lana got up quickly and covered her mouth with her hands, gasping as she turned away from her daughter. That call had really shattered her peace.

"Mama?" Linnea questioned.

"You know what…it's okay sweetie, here just, just keep eating breakfast okay?" She requested sweetly.

Lana went to start cleaning up the breakfast dishes, allowing her anger and newfound paranoia to manifest themselves through intense scrubbing of the frying pan, rather than through words or actions. Linnea didn't deserve to know any of this sooner than she absolutely had to.

Barb hadn't called just to say hi. She'd called with news and a warning. The good news was that Oliver was not on the loose. He was being held in a maximum-security cell deep within the walls of Briarcliff. Lana found this kind of funny but at the same time it was worrisome. Like her, he knew the ins and outs of the institution and could probably escape easily at least after he'd been there a while and earned the confidence of the guards, guards who had followed his orders at one time. That was the news. But the warning was worse.

Apparently, both the prosecution and defense teams in Oliver's trial were looking for her and the baby and had come to question Barb and Lois about their whereabouts. The two women had of course told the authorities that they knew nothing, but nonetheless Lana knew that met they would soon be on to them and find them anyway. The last thing Lana had wanted was to be found! And on top of that, she didn't want to have to abandon all they'd built here over the last few years. But Lana considered that that was a definite but sad possibility. She had to avoid testifying and keep her baby girl safe above all else.

The prosecution wanted her to appear as a witness in their case against Oliver. In fact, she was their primary witness at that time, and was able to answer to all the counts against him: rape, murder…the nature of his workshop….the fact that he was both crazy _and_ capable of premeditation…but Lana couldn't do it, even if it met justice for Wendy, and for all those other women. Worse, the defense had a separate mission to find Linnea as Oliver had requested to know his daughter's name. That thought chilled Lana to the bone. He could go to hell before he found out her name. Like she'd said three years before back in Briarcliff: _'Even if I have this thing you'll never see it.'_ And that was a promise she was determined to keep.

…

Lana smiled, watching Linnea run all over the place and laugh and giggle. It was about noon and they'd been in the garden a couple of hours. Lana had never been big on anything like gardening, just as she hadn't been with cooking. But since she'd gotten this tiny little cottage it had quickly become a hobby she really enjoyed. Their little plot of land was almost completely covered in flowers of every kind. Lana was planting some snapdragons and watching Linnea chase a butterfly. Watching Linnea run around and play restored her sense of peace and reminded her that they were out in the middle of nowhere far, far away from Boston.

"Mama budderfy!" She squealed.

"Yes honey budderfy." She laughed, holding out her arms. Linnea ran into them and looked down at the work her mother had just done. She smiled approvingly and reached out to touch the flowers.

"Ma'am excuse me. Excuse me." Lana froze and looked up when she heard the voice of a man calling her. He stood at her gate holding his hat in his hands. He looked nice enough it was obvious he was not from the area, he wore a pinstripe suit and sounded like a Bostonian.

"Can I help you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Her heart began to pound as she pulled her gloves off and threw them to the ground. She put her little girl on her hip and made her way toward the gate. She'd made sure to take her pair of hedge clippers along with her. They were extra sharp.

"Ms. Winters." The man began. Linnea watched attentively, she was a little bit afraid and also very interested in what was going on.

"No, I…" Now she was extra nervous. She hadn't thought she'd be found quite this fast.

"You don't have to lie I know who you are." Lana was taken aback by his statement. She hated to be accused of lying…even when she was lying.  
"What do you want?" She asked curtly, holding the little girl closer.

"I'm Clifton Anderson. I'm one of the prosecuting attorneys in the trial of Oliver Thre…"

"Don't say his name!" Lana covered one of Linnea's ears, trying to make him understand her point. She didn't want Linnea to hear that name: to know it, to speak it, to even think about it.

"Look. We've been trying to track you down for…" Lana shook her head and laughed. She turned away from him, beginning to walk back toward the house.

Mr. Anderson was a little bit intimidated by Lana but instead opened the little fence door and walked after her. His frustration far outweighed his fear. He'd been with this case two and a half years and this woman was the key to finishing it.

"But Ms. Winters please can't we talk this over? Let me come in."

"Well you might as well, you came all the way down here to find me for nothing. But just in the garden." She cautioned, clutching the hedge clippers she still had in her grasp.

Lana had decided by this point that she was in no mood to make a compromise with this man, much less agree to anything. At the same time, she thought he was himself harmless.

"Look don't shoot the messenger. I'm on your side in of all this, remember?"

"That may be. But I want **nothing** to do with this." She stressed.

"You want nothing to do with putting him away? Forever. So you and your daughter can live freely and safely?" He was confused.

"I'm a victim of that man. I've spent the last two years trying to build a normal life _away_ from him for me _and my little girl_….he's not going to disrupt that again. I promise." He took one look at the way she clutched the hedge clippers and believed that without a doubt. "And now look what you've done. You've found me. Now he'll know where I am."

"Ma'am I promise. We have no interest in letting him know where you are. Regardless of anything else."

"Oh don't you?"

"No. No we don't. Oliv…"

"Shu! Don't say his name in front of my child."

"Alright. _He_ will remain institutionalized at Briarcliff until the end of his trial Ms. Winters, and very likely thereafter as well. He's not a well man. The trial doesn't look good for him."

"Boo-who!" Lana cried mockingly, already knowing where this was headed.

"But nonetheless it would still help us if you could testify." There it was.

"The answer is no." Lana said firmly.

"Ms. Winters this is a serious matter…"

"A serious matter?!" Lana was livid and when he pressed her decided to give him a taste of her mind.

"Don't you think a serial killer not finding me and my baby, not seeing us ever again is a serious matter?" She whispered, but yelled at him as she whispered.

"Uh, Ms…"

"This is the man who kidnapped me, raped me, killed my room mate. Fathered my baby…" She reminded, in the same super quiet but severely angry voice.

Linnea was beginning to get scared at the situation and looked between her Mom and the man with big sad eyes. Part of Linnea wanted to cry and another part waited patiently, realizing that if she was still on her Mom's hip she was probably safe….

"Ms. Winters what I met to say…." The man began again and she sighed.

"Look. I understand where you're coming from. And I did my part when I shot him in the head. It's just too bad it didn't work. But fate is cruel. It plays games with you. And if you've been trying him I'm personally surprised you don't already know that."

"Mama who?" Linnea questioned, looking up at her mother with wide brown eyes, awaiting a response. Her mother's tone was beginning to make her more nervous.

"Shu sweetheart, Mama will explain in a few minutes."

"Ms. Winters at this point you have a choice. We know your circumstances which is why I came all the way down here to talk to you…that and we wanted to make sure it was really you we'd found."

"Well its me and if I have a choice I've made it and the answer is no."

"I was going to say your choice is either comply or be subpoenaed."

"So I have no choice at all is what your saying." Lana knew this before he ever came to her door.

"Yes ma'am."

"Well in that case go to hell and get off my lawn."

Lana went back into the house and slammed the door, causing Linnea who was already scared to begin crying. Mr. Anderson felt bad about all this but he didn't have a choice either it was just his job. He let out a deep breath and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He turned and slowly walked away, kicking the rocky Georgia dirt with his feet as he made his way back to town.

….

December 1967, Briarcliff

"St. Jude help us hold us pray for us comfort us help us hold us…." Jude felt like all she could do these days was sit there and mumble out a prayer over and over again at least when the night came and she was all alone in her cold, dark cell.

It would seem to the onlooker as if she'd indeed gone mad. But Jude thought that her time as a patient had thus far, given her the gift of complete and total clarity about her life. She sighed, leaning her head back against the cold concrete wall. She stopped speaking and closed her eyes, deciding to just lye back and listen to all the haunting, yet familiar sounds of the ward. Night was a hellish time there. It was a time when caged souls were even further tormented by being locked in dark, stingy, confined places and they cried out in vain for the freedom to carouse.

"St. Jude help us…" She began again and turned her head to the door of her cell when she heard a man in the hall struggling with guards.

It wasn't as if that were a new sound, but the voice was familiar to her and whoever it was she knew she hadn't seen him in a long, long time. She got off of her bed and peered out the barred window in her door.

"I don't belong here!" The man yelled, kicking one of the guards in the knee. "Don't you know who I am? I'm Oliver Thredson, psychiatrist here at Briarcliff, let me go!"

"Thredson." Jude muttered to herself.

She didn't hear much news anymore but she was not surprised he'd been committed. She had heard that he was the real Bloodyface, but the thing was that had been quite a while ago, perhaps even a couple of years ago….she didn't know…she wasn't even really aware of what year it was anymore.

Jude bit her lip. There'd been a day when it would've seemed unimaginable that either of them ever would've been committed to this institution: back when she was running it and he had been brought in to access Kit Walker but had instead stuck his big fat nose in where it didn't belong. Part of her thought that was what helped both of them get where they currently were: him on trial for all of his crimes, and her stuck in this hell hole, renamed Betty Drake.

"Dr. Thredson." Jude called. Serial killer or not, he would serve a purpose for her in this moment.

"Yes! Yes that's me! I'm Dr. Oliver Thredson!"

"Come on Thredson, let's go, move it!" One of the guards commanded.

"Dr. Thredson it's me. Sister Jude. Judy Martin."

Jude relished being able to say her own name out loud to some one who knew it, even the despicable Oliver Thredson. The utterance was comparable to the sweetest of treats and just lingered there on the tip of her tongue.

"S-Sister Jude?" Oliver cried, something deep inside of Oliver was happy to hear her voice too. She'd known him before he'd ever been accused of any of this…she could vouch for him. "Sister Jude are you there?!"

"Come on….don't listen to her she's no Sister, just Betty Drake."

"No!" Jude cried out. "It isn't true I'm Sister Jude. Judy Martin! And I used to be in charge here! Just ask him, just ask Timothy Howard!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, likely story. Likely story." One guard dismissed her.

"Yeah the Cardinal knows the likes of you!" The other scoffed.

"Dr. Thredson!" Jude swallowed. "Please! Tell your lawyer I'm in here! Help me!" She cried.

Oliver could see Jude's hand clutch the bar on her window as he was being hauled off to another cell. She closed her eyes and began to weep, sinking down to her knees.

"How far have I fallen?" She asked herself. "To beg that delusional murderer of women for help?"

Oliver tripped on his own ankle as he was thrown into his cell. He landed hard on his hands, just catching himself before his face hit the floor and his glasses shattered on his face. He recovered, turning around to a sitting position just as the door slammed for the night.

"You won't get away with this!" He yelled.

Oliver straightened his glasses, and looked around his new room, accessing the place, it certainly wasn't what he was used to. Even prison was better than this. But then again, he'd always considered conditions at Briarcliff to be barbaric and so it didn't really surprise him that the place only seemed to have gotten worse in the time since he'd been there. For example, it was far more odious than he recalled it being. And the order that had prevailed under Sister Jude was clearly shot to hell.

Whatever his distaste for the place might have been, he was used to prisons and he was tired: it was time for bed. Oliver tried to get up off the concrete floor, but found he'd hurt his foot a little when falling. Instead he rolled back over onto his hands settling into a half push-up position. That's when a dark spot on the ground in the corner caught his eye. Given his crimes and inclinations, Oliver would know the distinguishing marks of this type of stain anywhere: it was blood.

The pool of blood had been there so long it had stained the ground and had yet began to chip away. His heart pounded for a moment, wondering where it had come from. Murderer or not, he worried that perhaps another patient had been beaten here, perhaps by guards or maybe a roommate? Oliver thought quickly, he'd overheard that the cell had been unoccupied for several years and had wondered why. Could the answer be murder?

"Wait…" He questioned, his voice barely hovering above a whisper. 'This was the same ward Lana was in…wasn't it?"

Oliver was troubled by this thought and crawled over to the bed, pulling himself onto it. He lye back in the pillow and began to think very carefully about his time there a few years before, straining for any memory about where Lana's abortion attempt had been made. Was this that completely unholy dungeon where Lana had attempted to kill his daughter? His precious baby…before running off with her? Oliver swallowed nervously, convincing himself to try not to think of such things…but he couldn't help but wonder.

In reality, this was not the cell where Lana had attempted to abort her baby. And the blood was not hers. But Oliver grew restless and angrier by the second as he lye in bed. He eyed the blood, it seemed to stand out in the dark, beaconing him to investigate…it prompted him, it tempted him…it angered him. On one hand, he considered his own former infatuation with the substance, his past dealings with it and the fact that he longed to be linked to someone through it. It was Lana who had taken that all away from him: his ability to deal with blood and more importantly, his tiny blood relative.

He managed a small laugh, noting the irony in the fact that he was here because he'd hurt people, in pursuit of blood…yet, Lana was out there, with the child, free as a bird…when he knew very well she'd wanted nothing more than to spill the child's blood: and he'd be damned if he ever hurt a child.

Oliver sat up when he heard a clanging noise outside his door followed by hushed but hurried whispers. He crept to the door and peered out the tiny window, hoping his gaze would go unnoticed the passers by.

"Come on, quick, it's this way!" One of the three announced to the others.

"Shu! You wanna get us all caught?" The other asked, she had a strong northeastern accent, as many of the patients there did.

"Yeah don't give us away, just get us out!"

"Well then shut up and hurry genius!" The second charged.

Oliver watched carefully, as the three patients scurried away. So the rumors were true….there was a way out of Briarcliff. Oliver smiled and turned back into the dark depths of his cell.

….

December 1967

"Snow!" Linnea laughed.

The almost two and a half year old girl pressed her nose against the cold glass window. She could talk much better now and was almost as delighted by the idea of snow as she was by flowers.

"Yes sweetheart snow." Lana acknowledged, she was sitting tending to the fire. Linnea didn't realize that her mother was trying desperately to keep the flames in the hearth from going out. She was terrified that they would.

Lana was glad Linnea was a happy baby, but personally, she was sick of snow. It was freezing inside their tiny unheated cabin and Lana was keeping them warm in a few different ways. First, they were always well bundled or wrapped in blankets. Second, she turned the oven on and left it open ajar at least twice a day and third she almost always had a fire going. Lastly, they made their way to Kate's if all else failed.

"Mama snow!"

"Linnea honey you've told Mommy about snow three times already." Lana had not looked up any of the times her daughter had said this.

"Snow Mama!" What Linnea had met to say was there's a lot of snow.

"Okay baby there's snow I get it." Lana laughed. "Come here, how about you play with your blocks while Mommy checks on our soup, okay?" She asked, able to entice Linnea over to her and away from the window by using some of the toddler's favorite toys. "That's my good girl….we don't want open windows at night anyway: creepy." She said.

Lana went to the window and made sure the curtain was shut tight. There was something about that particular night that made Lana want to stay extra safe, extra closed in and whatever it was, she didn't think it was the snow.

Lana smiled to herself and stared back at Linnea as she went to stir the soup. She was proud of herself and of Linnea for having come such a long way this year. It was Christmas time and Lana felt like she had a family…something she hadn't felt on Christmas in years, she knew it could all be so much different than that. Lana took a sip of the potato leak soup and smiled, she'd surprised even herself: the soup was something more than just edible…maybe even decent?

"Linnea." Lana called. "Dinner's almost ready sweetheart." Lana took another bite and put the spoon down as the phone began to ring. "Who could that be? Hello?"

"Ms. Winters its Clifton Anderson of…"

"Oh no not you again."

"I know you don't like hearing from me but its different this time."

"Decided not to subpoena me?"

"Well….Ms. Winters we're not exactly continuing on with the trial."

"What!" She'd submitted all the evidence they'd needed: the tape, Wendy's…well parts of Wendy's ashes….Oliver had even chipped in by admitting that Linnea was his baby….She'd thought it was a done deal. "Why?!" She was enraged.

"Ms. Winters you need to sit down." Lana swallowed nervously when he said this but didn't move, after all she was tough but she was no cookie.

"What is it?"

"Ms. Winters we're not continuing with the trial at this time because we've lost custody of the accused."

"What are you saying?" She questioned, her eyes narrowing, focusing on Linnea who was laughing and clapping a mile a minute at something she'd just come up with in her own little head. She was oblivious to the grim reality her mother was just facing.

"Ms. Winters. He escaped from Briarcliff." Lana's eyes widened as he said this, her focus solely on Linnea now. "And he's looking for you."


	7. The World is Our Oyster

Chapter 7- The World is Our Oyster

Lana's head began to spin as she placed the phone back into its cradle, her eyes still transfixed on Linnea. Her heart pounded audibly but she stood perfectly still, the parallel between her outward calmness and her inner panic served only to make the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Within seconds, Lana noticed she was actually shaking and picked up the phone again to call Kate. Snow or not, Kate would come and get her and they could hide at the inn.

"Hello, hello!" Lana panicked, clicking the receiver again and again. She felt numb when she realized the line was dead. "Damn it!"

She slammed the receiver down. It scared her more that the line was dead, sure there was a storm, but she'd just been on it seconds ago…had someone cut it?

"Linnea!" She yelled, rushing to the other side of the living room where the two year old was peering outside into the relentlessly cold night. "Bad girl! What did I tell you about looking outside at night?!" Lana yelled, harshly taking the girl in her arms. Linnea was afraid of her Mother's reaction and began to cry.

"Oh…oh sweetheart, I'm sorry!" Lana apologized, hugging the girl sweetly now. "What are we going to do?" She asked, confiding in her daughter and voicing her panic. "Oh my God what are we going to do?" Lana stopped talking when she felt tiny hands on her face.

"Mama okay?" Linnea asked. Lana resented the hint of worry that was implicit in her toddler's voice and she paused for a moment, not knowing how to reply to the little girl.

"All that matters is that Linnea is okay." She said.

Lana had decided a long time ago, back in Briarcliff, that it was more important for Linnea to escape Oliver than for her to escape him. She still believed that now. It went along with her theory that Linnea was met to be, that she was her own little person free not only from her parent's demons, but that she should also be emancipated from their battle with each other. That's not to say that Lana wouldn't try to protect herself that she wasn't struggling to come up with a plan as she sat by the fire, rampantly rocking her baby.

She knew she was stuck in the house for now and she planned on getting out; and running again, far a way this time; to a place he wouldn't ever think to look. This had been that place, until those damn lawyers had found her and ruined it. She'd come to love this little house and even this town. But because the lawyers had found her, it met Oliver might be able to figure out where she was and she couldn't risk that, even with their previous promise that he would never find her…how much did that mean? They'd also promised he wouldn't escape, and he had. He was Oliver, and he would find out if he really wanted, just as he'd escaped because he really wanted to. They just didn't understand that. Lana sighed. She'd leave when the snow let up and return when Oliver was put away once and for all. And if he came in the meantime, she'd hide Linnea and fight him to the death.

….

Not quite forty-eight hours later….

"I wish it didn't have to be this way." Kate lamented.

It took two and a half long years, but Lana and Linnea had finally made their way to Atlanta. Back then, Lana had wanted to board a bus bound for California. Now her plans were quite different and she found herself at the airport. Linnea sat on her Mother's hip and looked around anxiously. She'd never been to a place so big, or modern, or crowded in her life. Part of her was scared, but another part of her felt invigorated by all the activity and the people.

"Oh I do too." Lana cried, accepting Kate's hug. "Thanks so much…for everything. I-I wouldn't have gotten though if you hadn't taken me in, and taught me everything you know about how to be a good Mom…if you hadn't been such a good friend."

Kate smiled and kissed Linnea's cheek.

"It was my pleasure. No need to thank me…I know it's a grave situation but all I ask is that you find some way to keep in touch."

"I'll try my best Kate. And I promise we'll come back. We won't forget you."

Kate understood that it was dangerous for her to know where Lana was going, after all, going into hiding entailed absolute secrecy of where you were, even from one's closest friends. Lana found herself with tears in her eyes once she and Linnea had said good-bye to Kate. Linnea's own eyes grew huge when Kate left. She loved Kate and her departure made her even more confused and sad.

"Kate go?"

"Yes. It's just you and Mommy now Linnea. But we'll see her again. Now…where to?"

Lana looked up at one of the many big boards, listing all the flights. She had been prepared for this…either this eventuality or to be free from Oliver altogether, and gotten Linnea a passport months ago, thinking that they might be able to travel for pleasure, it was something she and Wendy had wanted to do before well….everything that happened. Now she'd get to travel with Linnea. She watched as the little girl looked up at the boards too, wondering why her mother was so focused on them. The world buzzed around them, and Lana felt like she and Linnea were somehow totally isolated, it was an eerie feeling.

"We're going to be free I promise….now where to, it's a new year in a few days, and the world is our oyster."

Lana wished Linnea really could help decide. She was torn between two locations: her first choice from two and a half years before caught her eye. Back then, when the chase really began, she'd planned on taking the baby and hiding in San Francisco. It was a beautiful and progressive place, a big place where they could get lost easily and fit in with a crowd that was a little more to her liking. She'd gotten sick of dodging the advances of various men in their small Georgia town who wanted to date her, and she'd heard a lot about there being a vibrant gay community in San Francisco, an open-minded population …she thought Linnea would have a better life there: museums, schools with new books….fresh air…even while it sounded nice, part of Lana considered that it might be too obvious of a hiding place. Deep down part of her reminded her that Oliver knew her well and would look there.

Lana's section option was London. She and Linnea could start a quiet life together in a place she'd always liked, she'd visited twice, and she could work again, something she really relished. Perhaps she could even tell her story. Besides, Lana knew that Oliver would never be able to come to London and as along as he was loose. Attempting to travel internationally would give him away and he'd surely be apprehended. On the other hand, part of Lana considered that perhaps she could return to Boston. While she wanted to get away, it was probably the last place he'd ever suspect she'd go, and if he found her there, this whole thing would end a lot sooner...and then there was the place she'd wanted to go, the place she'd planned on going before she decided on keeping Linnea: New York….Lana froze when Linnea began to cough.

"Oh sweetie, are you alright?" She asked. Lana turned around to see a few men smoking in seats a distance away, and it was enough to bother Linnea. It was then that Lana remembered the baby's asthma; it had to be a consideration. Linnea really did need clean air….ocean air… "Alright." She decided confidently. "San Francisco it is."

…..

Lana thought that she and Linnea were fortunate to get the window seat. The toddler spent most of their flight staring out into the great big blue sky. It was winter, but it was sunny out most of where they'd flown. That day the little girl had seen the Grand Canyon, the four corners and the Golden Gate Bridge. Now, as they landed, she marveled at all the crystal blue bay below. It was majestic and spilled out into the vast ocean that seemed endless to Linnea and collided with the setting sun off in the distance. She'd never seen anything like this place before; she knew nothing of nature save flowers, snow and endless fields. The idea of endless water and sky and sun just seemed too amazing and she knew she loved it right away.

It had been many years since Lana had been to San Francisco and she had no idea where to go once they landed. She knew there'd be no Kate to take care of her there, no welcoming neighbors and that she'd have to find a job of some type because her money would run out quicker there.

Lana wasn't sure. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. On the other hand, it was interesting watching Linnea as she peered out the windows of the taxi and into the busy city streets. The little girl had never been in a real city before and she was exhilarated by it. She laughed every time the car went up or down the rolling hills, and she seemed particularly interested in the fog and the cold air that accompanied it as it slowly rolled into the city from the bay. Being a baby, Linnea couldn't totally tell her mother what she was feeling, nor did she fully express to herself the idea that she'd never felt better than she did at that moment. Not only was she having fun, but also the crisp, clean air felt good to her lungs.

Not knowing what else to do, Lana decided to check into a hotel she'd stayed at once before and begin looking to make a new life the next morning. After getting all their bags upstairs she took Linnea out to dinner. She missed going out and figured it would be appropriate. Now that she was going to be a city child, she'd have to get used to things like this. Linnea was fascinated by the restaurant just as she'd been by everything else that day. It was overwhelming as much as it was exciting.

Lana laughed to herself as she watched her daughter play with her fork and attempt to get the spaghetti in her mouth. She was purely adorable and Lana was glad that she seemed to be adjusting well to a life that was totally different from the only one she could remember. Lana knew that she was excited to be around people again, to be dressed a certain way (although in the past couple of years she could tell clothes had changed a lot and she now felt a little outdated), and most of all she was excited to be back in a city, in a place where she could maybe find a job and work.

…

The next morning Lana went through the paper to see if she could find any jobs to apply to or any apartments to rent. Unfortunately, she quickly came to the realization that she couldn't apply for jobs and go on interviews because there was no one to keep Linnea. Instead, she went to work looking for a cheap but semi-decent place to live. It was her first priority anyway; staying in a hotel was a waste of money.

So far Lana liked it here, like she knew she would. Although the wind was strong, the weather was more than mild here compared to Boston at this time of year. It was raining and fifty something out instead of snowing and barely thirty something out. Lana thought she could get used to it.

Lana and Linnea traveled all over the rainy city via cable car and on foot, looking at apartment after apartment. By the end of the day, Lana was loosing hope and Linnea was cold, tired and cranky. Lana sighed when they'd come to the last place, just pausing at the bottom of the steps to look up at the house. It was a little Victorian walk up in the Castro, once one house; the place had been made into four small apartments.

"No Linnea, no more puddles today." Lana said, pulling the girl away from the big puddle on the ground near the bottom of the stairs.

Linnea had made every attempt to jump in every puddle she saw that day…it had been fun at first, but now Lana thought it was too late in the day for that. She was sure this apartment would be as bad as all the others and just wanted to get this visit over with.

"Hi, are you Sadie?" She asked as she approached the top of the stairs. Linnea watched her little feet carefully as she climbed, clinging onto her mother's hand.

The woman, Sadie, had long blonde hair and a little boy about Linnea's age. When she called about this place, she'd been told that this woman would show her the apartment. It also happened that she lived in the apartment right next door.

"Yeah, hi, Lana, right?"

"Yes and this is my daughter Linnea."

"Hi Linnea, are you enjoying the rain?" Sadie questioned, causing Linnea to giggle.

"Yes, and she's soaked. Is this your son?"

"Lana, Linnea, this is my son Daniel."

"Hi, can you say hi Linnea?" Lana asked.

Linnea paused and looked up at her Mom.

"Hi." She said kind of shyly. Lana was surprised that Linnea was being shy….then it hit her, she'd never really been around other kids before. This might have come as quite a shock to her. She didn't even know if she knew very much about other children.

Sadie gave Lana a tour of the apartment, it was not much bigger than their cottage in rural Georgia, and that was fine by her. All that mattered to her was that it was clean, cheap and not in a dangerous neighborhood. Lana paid attention to Sadie and talked with her, but the real interest of the afternoon was watching Linnea with this little boy, Daniel. She was kind of awkward at this socializing thing, and Lana felt bad for that, at the same time, she suspected there was more to it than the fact that she just wasn't used to this…in fact, if Lana didn't know better, she'd think Linnea was smitten with the boy, that she liked him maybe…and that was a really weird thought for her on a number of levels….she was only two, after all.

"I'm sorry, what?" Lana questioned, she'd missed the last bit of what Sadie had said.

"Will you take it? The apartment?" The young woman asked again.

"Oh yes, yes I think I'll take it."

….

"Okay my big girl. Are you ready to go?" Lana asked.

Linnea was confused, so much had happened in the past few weeks and she didn't really know how to process it all. She was kind of overwhelmed and was especially perplexed about what her Mom was trying to tell her now.

"Mama no go." Linnea pouted from her place at the table.

"Mama has to go. But you're going to go play with Daniel at his school, and its going to be your school, doesn't that sound like fun?" She asked.

Sadie had told Lana about this place where she left Daniel during the hours she worked, and Lana had chosen to take Linnea there too. What other choice did she have?

"Mama no!" Linnea's eyes grew wide and she shook her head.

"Yes Linnea…" Lana paused and bit her lip, realizing that Linnea had never really been without her before. "Oh honey, it's going to be okay, I promise. And I promise that you're going to like it."

"Uh-uh."

"Yes, yes you are."

…

Over the course of the past couple of weeks, Lana and Linnea had grown close to Sadie and her son. She had been wrong about not finding welcoming neighbors in the city like the ones she had had in Georgia. It was late in the evening and Lana and Sadie sat together on their shared porch. Linnea and Daniel were inside, tucked in their beds and fast asleep. Lana was troubled and craving a cigarette. Her first days of work at a small local newspaper had been great. It had been wonderful to work again; to get back into the swing of things…until that morning, when she'd been reassigned from the political desk to the crime one…investigating a criminal was how she'd gotten here in the first place. She didn't want to resign, but she didn't know if she could do it again.

"You're good, look what you did with Bloodyface," her boss had said, "now there's this new guy, the Zodiac…"

"Have you heard about all these murders?" Sadie asked, taking a sip of her beer. Lana jumped when she said this. Her boss knew who she was, but most people, thankfully, did not, and that included Sadie.

"Uh yeah…" Lana answered, trying not to hesitate, or seem nervous, she didn't want to have to explain anything or give anything away.

"It's all really chilling isn't it? These murders you know…they think they're all connected, they think its one guy…and the last one, it was just right down the street…" She continued.

"Yeah…uh, actually, they asked me to, to investigate it, today…they want me to be the reporter following the Zodiac."

Sadie leaned over, looking into Lana's eyes as she stared down onto the street. Her voice was almost monotone but had a degree of deep sadness to it.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah."

"You should do it."

"You think?"

"Of course! This is just the kind of story you need to make you a famous reporter." Lana froze when she said this, her friend's words sending a chill up her spine….a famous reporter….ha! She'd rather have Wendy…she'd rather not be haunted.

"Yeah that's right," She laughed gently, "a famous reporter."

"Serious…this is a big, big case. It's even bigger than that Bloodyface guy…what was he, in New York?"

"No it was Boston." Lana corrected calmly. Sadie observed that she seemed partially disconnected from their conversation.

"Yeah, that's right, Boston."

"Mommy!" Linnea cried. She had gotten out of bed and her nose pressed against the screen door.

"Oh baby what is it, its so cold out! Come here." Lana reached over and opened the door, taking Linnea in her arms. She hugged her tightly as Sadie continued.

"Well, I guess I better get going. It's late and Daniel and I are going to a kids class in the park tomorrow…you guys should come."

"We'll be there." Lana said.

"Look I get it, your scared, right? Well I think you should go after the Zodiac story…you're brave, you're tough, you're a single mom, and a hero…you'll be just fine and that Zodiac guy doesn't stand a chance."

"Thank you Sadie." Lana smiled.

"No problem. See you tomorrow."

"Night." Lana said as her friend went inside. She went back to hugging her daughter.

Lana closed her eyes and let a single tear fall from her cheek.

"Oh Wendy, Wendy…" She whispered.

Lana treasured Sadie's encouragement. It reminded her of the encouragement Wendy gave to her. At the same time, she didn't want to be involved in this, she had her own problems to deal with and she certainly didn't want to go down the same path and repeat the same mistakes. She didn't want to get anyone else killed either. Sure she'd done great work at Briarcliff: but look at the cost, to everyone involved: her, Wendy, Kit, Jude…baby Linnea. Lana sighed, resting her head on top of her daughter's.

Now, you may be wondering why Lana was even considering taking this assignment. Lana'd been through so much and she had her own serial killer to think about. And it wasn't as though it was a do it or be fired thing, because it wasn't. In reality, it was almost as if this were fate. For the past two and a half years; she'd felt bad about not finishing her job with telling her story, with Briarcliff, with Oliver…and now she had the chance. Lana hadn't let on with either Sadie or her boss that she knew much about this Zodiac, but the thing was…all the pieces fit…and she had a hunch that this Zodiac and Bloodyface might just be the same man.


End file.
